Igneous
by Dustfall
Summary: No longer supporting the actions of Team Magma, a sheltered grunt leaves the team after Groudon has been awakened and begins to learn how to live in the real world. Along the way, friends will be made, lessons will be learned, and an unsung hero will be born.
1. Prologue

"_I understand everything our leader says. But you know what? Doing stuff like digging up a super-ancient Pokémon and ripping off someone's meteorite…I think we're going a little too far. What do you think?"_

* * *

He leans against the side of one of the drills, waiting for his patrol shift to end. The chance of anyone actually showing up that isn't supposed to be there is close to zero, so he doesn't really see the point in guarding –

An alarm begins to blare, accompanied by a short message that is announced over the tinny PA system. "**Intruder alert! Intruder alert! All members are to report to their posts! I repeat, all members are to report to their posts! The intruder is to be captured upon sight! Any members seen assisting the intruder will face serious and immediate consequences!**" He swears under his breath in response to this change of plan and starts to walk around his assigned area as if he had been doing so the whole time. He would much rather be fixing these vehicles than patrolling in the general vicinity of them, but they're already in tip-top shape. His eyes wander to the controls as he wonders what it would be like to actually _drive_ one of these things. It wouldn't be too difficult for him to learn, considering that he had helped construct parts of it, albeit minor ones, and that he had seen every gear and screw and doo-hicky inside of it. The main thing is that he would have to get the keys for it. Imagine, the so-called newbie deftly controlling what the operators had rightfully dubbed a monster of a machine! It would be glorious. And – no, he refuses to let himself think like that. It wouldn't be reasonable to take a ride on one of those things because in real life, such rash behaviour almost always brings about negative consequences. Him, one of the youngest members of the organisation and only informally trained member of the mechanics sector, operate complicated machinery? Ridiculous.

He pulls his eyes away from the machine just in time to spot a small figure dash around the corner of one of the generators in the room. He noiselessly releases his – well, not _his_, so to say – Mightyena out of its Poké Ball and points in the direction that the stranger ran off to. The hum of the machinery covers up the sound of the grunt and the Dark-type running after what, after a second glance, appears to be a young boy with a white hat. The grunt has no qualms in sending his Pokémon to Tackle the boy, but a flash of red light causes the attack to be directed towards a Sceptile instead. The Forest Pokémon promptly counters with Quick Attack and uses its superior speed to follow up with several Leaf Blades and a powerful Slam. With his Pokémon out cold on the floor, the grunt reaches out and grabs the boy's sleeve.

Before the boy can respond in any way, the grunt finds himself speaking. "Hey kiddo, calm down. You've already beat me and this room is clear, so there isn't much that I can do now." A lie, of course, since he could alert the other grunts of the intruder with the push of a button as well as throw the kid into one of the many lava pits in the base, but he's curious. This kid…he's no beginner trainer. "Take a break; I'll make sure that no one comes in."

The boy raises a skeptical eyebrow, but the grunt takes out his communicator and states, "Intruder not found in Sector 3F2R. I repeat, intruder not found in Sector 3F2R, over." The boy lets out a sigh of relief and decides to finally maybe trust this man. "Thanks…but why?" he asks as he returns his Sceptile to its Poké Ball, his prepubescent voice holding a hint of suspicion.

"If you're clever enough to get in here and avoid escape for a reasonable amount of time, as well as strong enough that you practically destroyed that Mightyena while still being around twelve years old, you are quite obviously worth talking to." the man states as if he is simply chatting about the weather. The boy finds this to be a reasonable argument and sits down beside the grunt when gestured to do so.

"I'm eleven, actually." The boy grins, clearly basking in the indirect praise.

"Even more so, then. What exactly are you trying to accomplish here, though?" _He seems to actually have a purpose at least…this doesn't seem like a dare of some sort._

"I was at Mount Pyre when the Red and Blue Orbs were stolen and the old man there asked me to help get them back. Apparently, this is some real dangerous stuff and stuff could get real bad real quick. The old lady there gave me one of your team emblems after someone dropped it and said that the hideout was probably somewhere hot. Mount Chimney seemed like a good place to have a hideout, so I came here." He shrugs. "So yeah, now I'm here and I'm trying to make sure legendary Pokémon don't destroy everything."

The grunt whistles, partially in surprise and partially in awe. "That sounds like a massive undertaking, especially for someone your age, and it seems like you're actually doing it so far. I'm genuinely impressed." That statement, unlike his earlier one, was not a lie.

The boy pauses for a moment, appearing to be lost in thought. "Wait…you work for Team Magma and you're okay with this?" It just didn't seem possible to him, given that the rest of them were fervently doing everything in their power to awaken the beast.

The grunt nods. "I understand everything our leader says and it _does_ make a certain degree of sense. Heck, I hadn't even touched _land_ until I was a few years older than you. Awakening an ancient Pokémon, however, is going too far. We're just people; we have no right to mess with the balance of the gods." After his little spiel, he realised that his dramatic side was showing and made a mental note to be more careful about that.

The boy looks back, attempting to hide his bemusement. After all, what the other individual had said was a bit over his eleven-year-old head, not to mention the part about him not touching land. _Where did he live before that, on a boat?_ "Yeah," he answers as he stands up, not really knowing how else to respond.

"Well, I better get going. I still gotta world to save or something." The boy smiles wryly as he brushes himself off and prepares to leave.

"Wait, kid…what's your name?" The grunt asks as he gets off of the floor as well.

"Landon Stark," the kid answers as he begins to walk out, his head turned to face the asker.

The grunt's eyes widen in recognition. "As in Norman's son?"

Landon grins. "That's the one."

"Well, that certainly explains part of why you're so good; you've probably been exposed to battling since before you could walk."

"Heh…I guess you could say that." Landon replies, his face slightly pinker than it was before. At this point, he's almost at the exit of the room. "How about you? What's your name?"

"Nick. Nick Torr."

"Well…thanks, and nice to meet you." The boy rushes off to complete his mission, leaving the grunt wondering about their conversation. _Maybe I could find Maxie later, if only for a little while…_

* * *

"_You know, losing to you cleared my mind. The next time I see our leader, I'm going to ask him about what we do."_


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I seem to already have some followers, so hey there! Glad that you could make it, or something along those lines.**

**This first chapter is more of a transition one, so just hold tight. One of you also reviewed, and in response to that, there will definitely be more development of Nick as the story progresses, but Landon isn't nearly as important here. In terms of updating, I'll do my best, but there isn't going to be some sort of schedule. However, I'm planning on updating more regularly during the next month or so.**

**Without further ado, let's get this show on the road.**

* * *

"It's your choice," the man replies with practiced ease, glancing at the nearby exit every few seconds. "I can't force you to accept what is required to reach our goals." That same voice has only been directed to the younger of the two if he was in a crowd. Now, however, it's only for him and he finds it both strange and somewhat satisfying. Maxie's clear tenor had been perfect in his speeches, but is on a whole new level in conversation, at least for the boy.

"If it's my choice, I shall be leaving, then." he responds in tone that he hopes conveys respect and gratitude instead of the typical unyielding obedience required when dealing with the higher-ups. "Goodbye, sir, and I wish the very best in your endeavours." All he receives in return is a curt nod before the man's red coat disappears around the corner.

After all, Groudon – the legendary Pokémon that they had wanted to control so badly – had awoken only to escape their clutches. The rest of Team Magma was ordered to attempt to find out where the continent Pokémon had gone. The boy, on the other hand, is no longer a part of their organisation and therefore has no reason to be in their hideout or in their uniform. He immediately takes off the ridiculously heavy (not to mention sweaty) hooded shawl that is the trademark of the organisation, revealing the standard black tank top underneath. Next are the gloves, arm warmers, and leg warmers because really, why would anyone have trouble keeping warm in _Hoenn_, let alone in a volcano? Then, he looks down at the too-short pants and resigns to rolling them up into shorts, making a mental note to get rid of them later.

Deciding that he looks inconspicuous enough, he leaves the hideout and with it, his first and only job as a Magma grunt slash mechanic, his brief career as a Pokémon thief, and his whole life as it was for the past two years.

There was no way that he would be recognised as a Magma grunt since the only thing that anyone really remembers about the uniform is the red hooded shawl with the group's insignia on it, so he isn't forced to leave the region in order to escape arrest. However, an individual carrying no supplies on the Jagged Pass is pretty suspicious and also unheard of, so he has to get to the nearest town before anything happens. _To Lavaridge it is, then._ he decides as he begins to hike down the mountainside.

* * *

Nick collapses in a heap on one of the cushioned benches in the Pokémon Center, waiting as his two Pokémon get checked on by the nurse. Advancements in technology had allowed the development of much faster and convenient healing machines, but an actual check-up is still a better option, albeit more time-consuming.

He finds it weird, not having to do anything or go anywhere after. Gone is the tight schedule and order of his surprisingly militaristic criminal life, replaced with a very large question mark. He had reserved a room for the night, of course, but between now and then, he has no idea of what to do.

_Supplies,_ he suddenly remembers, _that would probably be a good idea. And normal clothing._ Nick gets up at once and walks out of the Center to the PokéMart right next door, reprimanding himself for forgetting something as important as that. After a quick count of the money he has on hand (thank Arceus that he just got his pay check), he picks out a sturdy-looking backpack; some standard Trainer supplies like PokéBalls and Potions; basic camping supplies; and a hoodie and a pair of jeans. It feels like a lot, but he feels certain that he'll end up using all of them at some point sooner or later.

When he goes up to the cashier, the lady glances at his purchases and scans him up and down. "I'd say that you're a new Trainer," she comments as she rings up his items, "but I've never seen anyone like you around here. This is a small town, too." She raises an eyebrow, waiting for the explanation that he doesn't have.

"I..." he starts, attempting to piece together a reasonable lie in his head. "...I'm from Mauville and I came here for the herbal shop, so I didn't have a great deal of supplies. However, I was contacted by a friend at the PokéCenter and he wants to meet up with me in Fallarbor so that we can travel together. Hence all this." He gestures to the items in front of him. It was a believable story, thanks to Nick's knowledge of the region. He wouldn't have known what to do if he hadn't been forced to memorise the Hoenn map, including the major features of each town, during his time with Team Magma.

"Okay then," she replies, appearing to be satisfied with his answer. They lapse into a comfortable silence and he thanks her on the way out, practicing his story in his head and trying to answer any potential questions that could be asked. _What's your friend doing? Gym Leader challenge. What's he doing in Fallarbor? Uh...Battle Tent. Where are you two going later? Rustburo via Meteor Falls._ He feels a bit more comfortable lying after he has everything planned out, although there's probably at least one hole in his story.

He returns to the PokéCenter just in time to spot the nurse coming out to announce that it's time for him to pick up his Pokémon. After showing her identification (his Trainer ID that he had gotten in order to join Team Magma), she escorts him to one of the back rooms where his Pokémon were previously examined. They were returned to their PokéBalls after, as per usual, which were resting in a tray on top of a counter.

"Your Aron is in very good condition and seems to respond positively towards people. Its eyes also seem to be different as an adaptation towards exposure to more light, but there's nothing wrong with them." she begins, but Nick already knows what's coming next. "However..." she pauses, trying to articulate her thoughts. "...your Mightyena is rather aggressive and acts hostile towards other Pokémon and people." She shifts uncomfortably on the spot, not wanting to offend him yet not wanting to sugar-coat matters.

_I knew it._ He sighs and unconsciously begins to rub his neck as he explains. "It recently came into my care after belonging to Team Magma, and I'm relatively certain that they don't treat their Pokémon very well." None of it is technically false and the Mightyena's fur probably still smelled like smoke during the examination, so she appears to accept this explanation and nods in response.

"Ah, I see. Well, for the meantime, you'll have to be extra gentle with him and don't get him to fight until you feel that he'll listen to you." It is obvious advice suitable for only a beginner Trainer, but Nick acts as if he isn't aware of these facts. "Of course, miss. Whatever you say." He nods, a completely fake solemn expression on his face. "Thank you for you advice. See you another time, I suppose." Nick retrieves his PokéBalls and leaves the room, heading back to the bottom of the Jagged Pass. _Better to start now than later,_ he thinks to himself as he rolls the Mightyena's PokéBall around in his hands.


End file.
